


May the Dread Wolf Take Me

by sariloire



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dream Smut, F/M, Smut, smut inspired by a drawing, smut without a plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 14:06:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5336825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sariloire/pseuds/sariloire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lavellan finds herself dreaming, with Fen'Harel before her. He takes her invitation to heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	May the Dread Wolf Take Me

It was the first time Lavellan had dreamed of the ancient elven ruins without Solas by her side, guiding her. They looked different than they had with him. There wasn’t ruins this time, but a grand library, stretching up almost as far as she could see.

She looked down and found that her clothes were different than the ones she had fallen asleep in. She was wearing a long dress with slits up either side, clear up to her waist, and a fitted, ribbed bodice. Her hair fell loose across one shoulder, a change from the neat bun she normally wore it in. Lavellan had lifted a hand, running it through the soft locks, when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“I seem to have found an intruder.” At the sound of Solas’ voice, Lavellan turned on her heel, her mouth forming the relieved words that died in her throat when she saw the man standing in front of her.

He was Solas, at least his face was. His eyes, his ears, his lips, all of those belonged to the man she had fallen asleep next to. But everything else about him… different was a gross understatement. The man, with his face so similar to Solas’, had long brown dreadlocks, with soft brown fuzz growing in from his undercut. His torso was almost bare, and his arms were spangled with gold bracelets.

But his voice, there was no mistaking that voice.

“How did you find your way into my library?” His words were low, not menacing, but curious. “This is my private hideaway, I didn’t think anyone else knew about it.”

“I didn’t mean to barge in, Solas, I-“

His eyes widened slightly, before his lips turned up slightly in a small smile. “Oh, you remember that name, do you? I thought everyone had forgotten it by now.” He stepped forward, one measured step at a time, until he stood in front of Lavellan, looking down on her with his head angled slightly. “Have we met before, you seem so… familiar.”

She shook her head, not taking her eyes from his. “I believe I was mistaken, you just remind me so much of…” Her voice trailed off as ‘Solas’ reached out and touched a strand of her hair that had fallen across her face, tucking it behind her ear. “W-what should I call you?”

He leaned close, his breath warm on the tip of her ear. “Fen’Harel.”

Lavellan closed her eyes at his voice, so heady from the intimate undertone he spoke with. He was so similar to Solas, the same tilt of the head, the same fingers toying with her hair. Even the man calling himself the ‘Dread Wolf’ couldn’t stop the tremor she felt at his touch.

She opened her eyes, and looked into the blue ones that were staring back at her.  _’It’s just a dream, why shouldn’t I enjoy it?’_

“Then, Fen’Harel,” She moved a step forward, her bodice touching the almost bare chest. “May the Dread Wolf take me.”

A slow smile spread across Fen’Harel’s face, one she had seen only a few times on Solas’, and he grabbed her shoulders and shoved her against the bookcase she had been standing in front of. Her small cry of pain was quickly stifled by his mouth that had taken the opportunity to cover her own, his tongue flicking in between her open lips, darting in and exploring every space it could.

At the same moment she felt his lips on hers, she felt his thigh push between her legs and hoist her up, pulling her up to his level. One of his hands wrapped around her wrists, drawing them above her head, and the other traced her face before settling into her hair, pulling her head back and pulling their mouths apart.

Fen’Harel began to attack her neck, alternating between kissing and sucking, Lavellan was almost certain that despite this being a dream, she was going to wake up tomorrow morning with marks covering her chest and neck from his ferocity.

All thoughts left her mind in the next moment, when Fen’Harel pushed up with his thigh while pushing down on her back, driving her towards him with the hand that had abandoned her hair. He repeated the motion again, and when Lavellan couldn’t stop a small moan from escaping her throat, he pulled his face back slightly. A wicked smile was on his lips when she opened her eyes.

“Oh, I like that sound.”

His hand had dropped her wrists, instead pulling at the laces holding her bodice together. With his long fingers, the dress dropped, pooling over his thigh until he ripped the cloth off and threw it across the room. His own sparse clothes followed, and Lavellan found herself lying on her back next to the bookcase, a small lounge chair under her, with her knees in the air.

Fen’Harel’s eyes met hers, turning his head to run his lips on the inside of her right knee. “May I?” His voice still had an almost primal growl to it, but he had given pause before continuing, waiting for her assent. She nodded, and he grabbed her legs, throwing them over his shoulders as he lowered his face to where the warmth was pooling in her body.

It was pleasure from the moment his tongue found her folds, circling and swirling, drawing every noise she had only ever made for Solas before this. And the noises Fen’Harel made, the ways he touched her, even the pauses he gave before sliding finger after finger into her, all of it was as if it was Solas, pleasuring her in ways only he could do. The Dalish boys she had grown up with certainly hadn’t known how their hands and tongues could be used, not like this.

Fen’Harel raised Lavellan’s hips slightly, burying his nose into the soft curls to press his tongue into her, harder than before. She gasped, reaching down while almost expecting her hand to come in contact with bare scalp. When her fingers brushed his long braided hair, she wrapped both her hands in it and held on, following the rhythm he was moving to with his steady motions. She was on the edge, so close. She threw her head back as her body shuddered; a moan, the loudest so far, leaving her throat as the pleasure overtook her.

Fen’Harel finally let up as she dropped her hands, panting slightly. He gently moved her legs down from his shoulders, and leaned over her, his eyes slowly following her form as he moved upward. “I hope that adequately whet your appetite.” His wicked smile was back, as he took in the pink of her cheeks and the sweat beaded on her forehead. He slipped a hand under her left thigh, pulling it up slightly as he lowered himself until she could feel him, long and hard, pressing against her stomach.

“I’ve already told you once,” She breathed, pulling his head down to meet hers. “Dread Wolf, _take me_.” His eyes turned dark, and he pressed down onto her.

There was no gentleness in the way he plunged into her, but he had taken his due time in preparing her body for his own, and she only felt a moment of pain before the pleasure overtook everything else in her head.

Fen’Harel was over her, his chest pressed against hers as he ground as far into her as she could take, before he drew out and thrust back in again. Her hands were at his back, clawing and pulling, wanting him to go harder, faster, anything. She wrapped a leg around his waist, hoping to help pull him closer, but he drew back enough so that he could attack her breasts during his next thrust.

He bit at one of her nipples, the other he pulled and rubbed with the hand that wasn’t again threaded in her hair. He bit and nipped, but always traced the area with his tongue after the moment of pain.

His thrusts grew more erratic, his face going back to her neck, biting and sucking, and her mouth, his tongue darting in and out of her lips along with every thrust that sent pleasure running down Lavellan’s spine with every move.

There was a break in the rhythm for just a moment, and she felt his hand join his cock in the assault on her body, rubbing her swollen clit and pulling her once again to the edge of control. This time when she crested, he came along with her, moaning into her hair as she dug her hands into his back and rode out the ecstasy with his body still moving along with hers.  


* * *

  
When she woke the next morning, Lavellan groggily opened her eyes, feeling as if her body had been through a war while she slept. Solas’ bedroll was empty, and she was thankful, as her own fevered memories from the dream started reawakening and she didn’t believe she could have kept a neutral expression around him.

After a half hour or so, she got up and left the tent and found Solas sitting by the campfire. When she approached, she thought the tips of his ears turned red, but chalked that up to her own guilty conscience.

“Sleep well?” He asked, smiling at her before turning back to look at the breakfast cooking on the fire.

“Yes, thank you.” She walked up behind him and hugged him a morning greeting. “And you?” She murmured, pressing a kiss to his ear.

“Very well, vhenan. Thank you.”

As she turned back to go change into her day clothes, Lavellan couldn’t see the flush that had spread across Solas’ face. Or the glint in his eye as he placed the cooking pan to the side and followed her back to the tent.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this drawing by sircatherine: (http://sircatherine.tumblr.com/post/130925865780/if-anyone-wants-to-write-a-smutty-scene-to-go-with)


End file.
